


Thank You

by inkbeat



Category: Free!
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tumblr: makoharufestival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-29
Updated: 2014-01-29
Packaged: 2018-01-10 11:02:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1158921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkbeat/pseuds/inkbeat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru is frustrated with the lack of words that truly express how he feels for Makoto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thank You

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the MakoHaru Festival! [[tumblr](http://makoharufestival.tumblr.com/)]  
> Challenge: I appreciate you  
> User: [ink-beat](http://ink-beat.tumblr.com/)  
> Rating: sfw  
> Beta: Nix

     "Okay, I'll do that over here." Makoto takes a few ingredients -- spring onion, some herbs, and the like -- and brings them further down the kitchen counter, where he begins to use a knife to cut them up. Haru, on the other hand, finds himself staring silently at the brunet, who had once again managed to read his thoughts without the slightest of sounds uttered from his lips.

     On top of the mackerel grilling and sizzling away in the pan in front of him, the sound of the knife hitting the wooden board fills his ears as he absentmindedly looks down to prod lightly at the fish with his chopsticks. As on random occasion, Makoto had come over to keep Haru company for the evening, staying over for the usual dinner as well.

     As he easily turns the fish over onto the other side, Haru steals a quick glance at his companion; the latter has a concentrated look on his face, a pile of coarsely chopped greens beginning to form on the cutting board in front of him. Nibbling at the inside of his lower lip, Haru wonders if his body language was really that easy to read. Makoto always seemed to know -- and not only that, he always seemed to spoil Haru as well, save for the couple of times he had been stopped from diving into a tub, or any other large container, of water (but really, the backstroke swimmer _did_ mean well). 

     A light sigh leaves his lips, and Haru looks back up, still thinking -- his mind drifts with memories of the countless of times Makoto had shown affection for him, the times they enjoyed just being around one another, the smile on his face and that particular look he saved only for Haru himself--

     The dark-haired boy then finds himself frowning, suddenly all too aware that he had rarely done anything in return -- or at least, specifically gone out of his own way to do something in return. When his gaze falls downwards again, his eyes widen for a moment -- and he quickly moves the pan off the stove before the fish begins to burn, fumbling and uncharacteristically flustered. 

     He makes a small racket before hearing a voice call out, "Haru?" – and he immediately snaps back to his senses. He looks over to the side and meets Makoto's eyes; a short silence falls between them ~~,~~ before Makoto laughs and says, "Okay, I get it."

     ...It happened again.

\--- 

     "Thanks for the meal!" They set their bowls and chopsticks back down onto the low-lying table, and Makoto begins to stand, hands moving to clear the table. Despite his earlier thoughts still swirling around in his head, Haru finds himself quickly reaching out to grab the other boy's wrist, stopping him.

     "Wait, just let me do it," he says. 

     Makoto, with confusion written in his eyes, replies, "Huh? We always clean up together, though."

     The freestyle swimmer opens his mouth in attempt to protest, but the words don't seem to fit together in his mind. _I'll wash up this time, you just sit --_ no, that just sounded almost angry. _I'll wash, you don't move_ \-- no, that didn't work either.

     Seeing Haru struggling for the right words, Makoto carefully slips his wrist out of the other boy’s hand ~~,~~ and gently holds it with his own. "Don't worry about it, I'll scrub them as usual."

     And so, the raven-haired boy finds himself rinsing off the plates and cutlery, with Makoto standing next to him, scrubbing away with a soapy sponge. Although they normally didn't exchange words as they washed, this time, Haru feels oddly self-conscious – he becomes fidgety and continues to zone out at inconsistent intervals. He has to be nudged a few times, and once had to have a soapy hand wave in front of his face to check if he was alright -- but the same thing repeatedly occupies his mind: _what words am I supposed to use?_

     After cleaning everything up, Haru pours some tea for the two of them, and they move to sit outside on the porch, bathing in the soft glow of the night sky, crisp evening air all around them.

     He breathes in deeply, the coolness of the outdoors soothing his nerves. They sit together, quietly sipping at their steaming hot cups of tea, before Makoto finally asks, "Haru, is everything alright?"

     They turn to look at each other -- the brunet's vibrant green eyes are filled with worry. "You've been acting weird all evening. Do you want to talk about it?"

     The sudden surprise on Haru's face quickly turns into a mix of both hesitant and gloomy. He momentarily breaks their gaze by looking down into his cup of tea, the heated wafts of steam just barely reaching up to brush his cheeks. "Nothing, it's just I..." _...I don't know how to tell you how much I..._

     Once again, the words in his mind don't seem to fit together quite right. As he pauses in his speech, he hears Makoto laugh a little and say, "It's okay. You don't have to force yourself, I understand."

     Haru's ears prick up at those words, and while he's already sure that Makoto can guess what he's feeling, the fact that he can't express himself properly frustrates him even more by the second. He tries again to think of the right words -- _I like you. I love you._ _I'm crazy about you. As in, really crazy. ..._ No, even clichés wouldn't be able to express all his real feelings...

     Nearly at the end of his wits, Haru finally gives up and shuts his jaw, lips pressing together in a thin line. He then puts his cup down, reaching over to set Makoto's cup onto the porch as well. Then, he closes the distance between himself and the brunet, and in his frustration, throws himself into Makoto's arms, nearly toppling the two of them over and onto the floor.

     "Whoa--!" Startled, Makoto moves quickly to stop the two of them from falling. His arm naturally circles Haru's waist, and he pulls back a little to peer downwards. "Haru?" 

     Haru says nothing in reply, but only adjusts his position. He makes himself comfortable, completely ignoring how strange it must seem for him to behave this way, and nuzzles his face into the crook of Makoto's neck, breathing in deeply into his scent. It was such a wonderfully warm feeling, even warmer than the tea -- not only his body heat, but his presence, his scent, his grip -- everything, just _everything_ about Makoto gave Haru the warmest feeling in the world.

     A hand reaches up to stroke lightly at Haru's hair, and the latter's eyes flutter close. He tries to snuggle even closer into Makoto's body, hands tightly clenching at the back of the Makoto's clothes. If he could do this whenever -- if the two of them could stay like this -- he didn't care if he'd be able to find the right words in the end.

     They stay like that for a comfortable while before Makoto says, "This is embarrassing to say, but you don't have to say anything right now. We have all the time in the world, right?"

     ... _That's right. All the time in the world..._ He feels Makoto fidget a little in embarrassment, while his words calms Haru down immediately. And though his words had failed him earlier, a smile naturally rises to his lips.

     After a short moment of hesitation, the freestyle swimmer decides to lean back, and then upwards to plant the lightest, but most loving of kisses, onto his beloved's cheek.

     "Ah--" Startled by the sudden boldness, Makoto's face rapidly changes from rosy pink to burning red -- although it's still no match for the shade of Haru's own cheeks. The raven-haired swimmer quickly hides his face back in the crook of Makoto's neck, but he breathes out with a contented sigh.

     As he does, the most natural of words find their way to his lips: "Thank you."

 


End file.
